


i hate this fucking family

by platonics



Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, New Dangan Ronpa V3: Everyone's New Semester of Killing
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Bad Cooking, Breakfast, Crack, Crack Treated Seriously, Domestic, Frenemies, Gen, Humor, Lowercase, Morning Routines, Nonbinary Shinguji Korekiyo, Other, Post-Canon, Tulpas
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-27
Updated: 2020-08-27
Packaged: 2021-03-06 21:07:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,250
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26135473
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/platonics/pseuds/platonics
Summary: Sometimes a family can be a couple, a tulpa, and a very unwelcome house guest. Crack fic.
Relationships: Shinguji Korekiyo/Yumeno Himiko (background), Shirogane Tsumugi & Yumeno Himiko
Comments: 4
Kudos: 13





	i hate this fucking family

**Author's Note:**

  * For [UltimateProtagonistNerd](https://archiveofourown.org/users/UltimateProtagonistNerd/gifts).



> this monstrosity is like...half crack and half not? i don't even know, just don't take it too seriously lmao
> 
> set in an au i made with a friend -- kiyo & himiko collaborate on a murder and are allowed to graduate together after getting away with it, and tsumugi also gets out alive as the mastermind. she then proceeds to just...never leave them alone as they try to move on and build a normal life.

something was burning in the kitchen. himiko could smell it. the acrid, charred odor of breakfast gone wrong, wafting all the way upstairs to her bedroom. how the smoke alarm wasn't going off, she had no idea. maybe nobody had remembered to change the batteries, or maybe it really wasn't as bad as it seemed. either way, she was very much not in the mood for this. not at the inhuman hour of — she glanced over at the clock, vision still blurry with sleep — 8:05 in the morning.

with a soft groan, she buried her face in her pillow. not her problem.

as for whose problem it was, that answer became clear soon enough. shirogane tsumugi's voice bounced off the walls, as annoyingly saccharine and shrill as ever. apologies, frantically clearing the kitchen of smoke, trying to salvage what was still mostly edible… she could envision it all without even listening to the words. frankly, himiko could do with an apology, now that she was thinking of it. but no, apparently disrupting her sleep wasn't enough to get a 'sorry' out of the great mastermind herself.

it took a few more minutes of angry, pillow-muffled thought before she convinced herself to roll out of bed after all. her problem or not, it was doubtful that she’d be able to go back to sleep at this point. not with chaos brewing downstairs. upon reopening her eyes, morning sunlight was beaming through the window, far too cheerily. himiko groaned again, mentally cataloguing the day's list of injustices so far.

1\. she'd had a grand total of five hours of sleep

2\. the house smelled _awful_

3\. tsumugi's voice was the first thing she had to hear upon waking up

4\. kiyo wasn't in bed next to her

5\. one of the most likely reasons for point 4 was that they weren't fronting

6\. there wasn't even breakfast

faced with a list like that, she couldn't even summon the motivation to get dressed or brush her hair, much less paste on a smile that tsumugi would know was fake anyway. instead, she just shuffled out of the bedroom and down the stairs, still in the same t-shirt and shorts she went to bed in. the smoky smell grew stronger the closer she got to the kitchen, as did the high-pitched beeping of the smoke detector. apparently the downstairs one had gone off after all.

tsumugi stood in the hallway, waving a dish towel in front of the detector in the hopes of getting it to stop. himiko paused a few feet away, leaning against the wall to watch her instead of offering help. it meant she suffered too, seeing as the noise was already giving her a pounding headache, but the passive aggressive gesture was worth it.

"oh, himiko-chan! sorry about this." tsumugi didn't falter in her towel-waving as she spoke, glancing over at her with what appeared to be genuine sheepishness in her eyes. "you see, i was in the mood for a western breakfast and thought i'd cook for everyone, but there was a little incident with the french toast."

himiko just stared at her, arms crossed and expression blank.

"yeah. i can see that."

"oh, but don't worry! i think we'll still get to have a decent breakfast once this is taken care of."

"uh huh. coffee?"

"already some in the pot." almost before tsumugi was done speaking, himiko pulled away from the wall and brushed past her, venturing into the kitchen in search of caffeine.

"any chance you'll need to go out to pick up breakfast instead, and just never come back?" she asked as she rifled through the cupboard for her favorite mug. "just, y'know, _go back to your own house_ instead of living in ours? no?"

finally, the smoke alarm stopped, leaving them both in blessed silence. himiko's brain itself seemed to relax in relief, and she watched the steady flow of coffee into her mug, almost hypnotized by it until the quiet was broken once again.

"how cute. you still think i'm going to leave. and here i thought you were finally starting to accept me as part of the household."

_"you don't live here."_

punctuating her statement with frustrated hand gestures that were utterly pointless since tsumugi wasn't actually in sight, himiko gritted her teeth. sometimes (often, actually) she still wondered how she managed to be friends with her through most of the killing game. she'd seemed so sweet and normal then, if a little overly obsessed with anime. now, after over a year of being exposed to her true colors, the most positive feeling she could muster up for her was grudging acceptance, and that was on a good day. this was most certainly not a good day.

"i've slept here every night for months. i'm not sure what else you would call it." tsumugi bustled back into the room, returning the towel to its proper place before going to survey the french toast situation. himiko was more than content with getting out of her way after she added some cream to her coffee, hopping up to sit on the counter opposite.

“i'd call it harassment. where's kiyo?"

"that's not a very nice way to talk to your friend. i've done a lot for you."

"i'd kill you for 100 yen. and i asked you where kiyo is." she took a sip of her coffee. it had cooled down some since whenever tsumugi first brewed it, but it still burned her throat on the way down.

"at least film it if you do." tsumugi pouted down at the slices of bread she was flipping, an expression that might seem cute to her fans but inspired only anger in himiko. "miyadera went for a jog."

"at this hour?"

“well, not all of us are as unmotivated as you.”

himiko scowled, annoyed, but didn’t bother to respond to her provocation. not at first, anyway. the pressure continued to build until she couldn’t help but blurt out a response. her patience for tsumugi’s bullshit eroded more every day.

“it’s not a crime to not want to go for a run first thing in the morning. besides, i don’t see you out there either.”

“well, maybe not, but i’m hard at work making breakfast for everyone. you’re the only one sleeping in, himiko-chan,” tsumugi cooed, looking up from the stove. himiko gulped more of her coffee to keep herself quiet, just accepting the minor burns at this point.

“it’s eight in the morning on a saturday,” she said slowly, fighting to keep her voice measured. “that’s not really sleeping in.”

“oh, i didn’t mean to upset you. i didn’t think you’d react so strongly to such a simple comment.” that saccharine giggle made her see red. tsumugi was plating the salvageable french toast now, decorating it with fruit and whipped cream as if that would disguise the fact that even the best pieces were a little burned. with a twinge of melancholy resentment, himiko remembered how good kirumi’s meals always were.

breaking the tense silence that had briefly settled over the room, the front door creaked open, then shut with a thud.

“i’m about ready to lobotomize myself with an ice pick,” said kiyo’s voice from the entryway. it was followed by a sort of clattering noise and then a rapidfire string of curses, a sure sign they hit their head on the gaudy chandelier tsumugi had installed. 

it was going to be a very long day.

**Author's Note:**

> i started writing this way back in april when quarantine was killing my motivation to work on more serious stuff. the past few days i haven't been in a good enough state of mind to focus on any of my current wips, so i figured i might as well just slap a few hundred more words on this to finish it up as a low-stress thing jsrhgjsh


End file.
